


Right Place, Wrong Identity

by princetobias



Category: DCU, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Dick Grayson Being a Dick, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, Hostage Situations, Humor, but not in the first chapter that's just prologue, dick grayson living his best life and being a bitch of a hostage to slade, some references to young justice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:13:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14842760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princetobias/pseuds/princetobias
Summary: Ever have one of those days where your enemy takes your civilian self hostage? Dick Grayson can relate. Finding himself in the middle of a hostage situation being perpetrated by Slade, Dick has to juggle keeping civilians safe, thwarting Slade's plans, and keeping his secret identity just that-a secret. But who's to say you can't have a little fun in being the worst hostage ever?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is a story I've been thinking about writing for a few years now and finally got around to it. I like the idea of Robin just being an Absolute Nightmare of a hostage and living his best life and thwarting crime even as a civilian. So enjoy! :)

Dick’s POV

Dick slouched against the wall, preparing himself for the inevitable. It wasn’t as if this was a real problem, not really, it was more of a nuisance if anything. And while annoying, it was his own fault he was here. Dick knew what he was getting into from the start, it just felt like a waste of time. Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, it was something he had to do, everyone had to deal with the press at some point. The Titans were more than used to it, they were exposed to everything from news cameras and journalists to excited civilians and their phones. And at this point in his life, Robin was nothing less than a public relations expert. He had grown up with all eyes on him in the center ring of Haley's Circus, then as Gotham socialite, and now as the leader of the Teen Titans. The problem at current was this wasn’t about the Titans, and he wasn’t currently Robin. At the moment he was Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne and the last of the Flying Graysons, and the press was going to descend upon him once they caught wind he was in Jump City.

Once it became clear Dick was serious about leaving Gotham, he and Bruce concocted the cover of boarding school for him. Suddenly disappearing from Gotham could be explained away through the context of schooling and it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the kid of a socialite. What was out of the ordinary was not hearing from said kid for over a year. His cover would only work so long as he made appearances every now and again, staying active in the public eye. Dick hadn’t anticipated the Titans. He hadn’t anticipated practically living in his suit, letting his civilian self fade away. Needless to say, he had been slacking, and now he would be making up for it.

The Jump City Museum was hosting an exhibit on a collection of otherworldly debris that had crashed on Earth, and wasn’t it just a lucky coincidence that Dick’s final paper for school was on that very same topic? At least, that’s the story he had given to the the museum’s director the day before. Word needed to get out about his return somehow, and he knew that director would sell out to the paparazzi within minutes of hanging up the phone.

And so there he was, after an hour of wandering around the exhibit with no sign of the media in sight. Maybe that director was more discreet than Dick had given him credit for.

Sighing, Dick pushed himself off the wall, maybe he’d get lucky and one of the other museum patrons would recognize him. He wasn’t picky, social media was as good a means as any for getting attention. Walking through the narrow archway into the next part of the exhibit, Dick found himself surrounded by otherworldly gems. They were nothing he hadn’t seen before; priceless hunks of rock, a few probably imbued with power. It was interesting enough, but not why he was there. At this point he honestly just wanted to leave. It was almost a relief when the alarms went off.

His first thought was _Thank God I can finally leave_

His first thought was _There’s a criminal_

His first thought was _I’m not Robin_

As panic quickly engulfed the room, Dick found himself slouching against the wall once again. There was little help he could provide outside his suit, and the other four Titans could handle whatever petty burglar or villain of the week was behind this without him.

Two gunshots pierced through the air, causing Dick to jump to attention. The loud array of panicked voices that had filled the room quickly turned into a quiet hysteria as the gunman made his presence known. Standing in the arched entrance way the man spoke in a calm, commanding manner.

“Sit down.” He demanded.

Looking over at the man Dick felt his stomach drop, “Well, shit.”


	2. Playing the Bait

 

Slade’s POV 

Slade liked to think of himself as a man of many hats. In his life he had been a soldier, a family man, a mercenary, and a villain. What he wasn’t was a petty thief, he never had been. And yet, his current situation found him robbing a museum. His time in Jump City and dealings with the Titans had made Slade a large proponent of the phrase, “if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” As entertaining as it was to torment the Titans with schemes and lesser villains, they had proven themselves capable of taking out some of the best criminal underlings Jump CIty had to offer. And Slade wasn’t willing to risk failure this time around.

It was a gem he needed, and he needed it without the interference of the Titans. There was no criminal underling he could hire to get the job done, there was not thief among them who possessed the ability to outwit Titans.

_E_ _xcept for one_ , Slade mused. He frowned at the thought of his previous apprentice and the way that endeavor had ended. Yet another reason he had to do this himself. Dealing with the Titans’ usual theatrics was an obstacle he was unwilling to put up with today, so he had taken an extra precaution. He had armed himself with a firearm. Admittedly, there was little Slade knew of the lives the Titans lived before Jump. It was only Robin he knew held any experience in the being hero prior to the formation of the Titans. The rest were all seemingly newcomers, and newcomers were easy enough to scare off.

_No better way to silence a room_ , Slade thought as he stood in the archway of the exhibit, gun in hand, effectively blocking the only exit. While the Titans were fun for a game of cat and mouse, their team was only playing at hero. There were never any real stakes. If they wanted to stop him this time they would be forced to learn saving the day isn’t always as simple as they had been led to believe.

“Sit down.”

Slade looked out across the room, while he liked to believe himself above taking hostages, desperate times call for classic human leverage. The hostages were scattered throughout the room, all had quickly lowered themselves to the ground, and now sat silently, beside themselves with fear. Except for one. Locking his eyes with Slade’s, a teenaged boy slid his back down the wall nonchalantly until he was sitting along with the others. If Slade had to guess, the boy was around seventeen or eighteen years old.

Amused by the boy’s arrogance, Slade made his way over to where the boy sat. As he did the teen’s demeanor changed. Instead of the fear and cowering Slade had expected, the boy narrowed his eyes narrowed and flared his nostrils, his  posture seemed to tense and he looked directly at Slade with a fierce hatred. And then, as if realizing himself, the boy quickly schooled his features and relaxed his posture.

_H_ _ow_ _odd_ , Slade thought as he stopped inches away from the boy. Odder still was the brief flash of recognition he’d felt upon closer examination. The boy’s dark hair and toned, tanned skin felt familiar, but Slade couldn’t pin where the recognition came from. As he stared down at the teen, the teen stared right back up at him, blue eyes never wavering.

"Is there a problem?” Slade asked, daring the boy to respond.

The boy bristled at that, scowling, but stayed silent.

_Th_ _ought as much_ , Slade thought as he turned his back on the boy, reexamining the room. He had a gem to steal.

 

Dick’s POV

Dick fumed with rage as Slade made his way across the room. Of course it was Slade behind this, it couldn’t have been Mumbo or Control Freak or any other kooky villain. No, it had to be the one who posed an actual threat. Had it been any other robbery, he would have been the very picture of a compliant hostage, any other robbery he would have tried to blend in with the crowd, but this was Slade. He had outsmarted the Titans too many times to count, and with the added threat of a firearm in a room full of civilians Dick felt he’d lost control of the situation before he’d even begun to get a handle on it. Any other robbery he wouldn’t have played the hero, any other robber he would’ve held his tongue.

“Yeah,” He called out to Slade from across the room, he regretted it before he even opened his mouth. “I’ve got a problem.”  

_If_ _it had been any other villain_ , he thought, _any other villain_. But this was Slade, with a weapon, in a room full of hostages. He couldn’t let these people get hurt, even outside the suit he had to do something. 

Slade turned around, dropping something into his belt. 

“Oh?” He said in an amused voice, “And what exactly is that?”

“I’ve got a problem with hostage situations,” Dick responded, “Never really been a big fan you know how it goes.”

He gave Slade a smile laced in arrogance. If he could just distract Slade from the other hostages he could make sure the others made it out OK. He was all the hostage Slade would need to get out of here, if he had play the role of bait so be it.

 

Slade's POV

_So the boy has a backbone afterall_ , Slade thought as he made his way back towards the boy, _maybe this will be more fun than I thought_

“Get up.” He gestured at the boy with the gun. “What’s your name?”

The boy stood, a cocky smile splayed across his face, “Dick”

“And what Dick, do you propose we do about your problem? Hmm?” Slade prompted. “Do you think I’m going to let you go just because you’re fool enough to challenge me.”

“No,” The boy-Dick-said, his casual demeanor abruptly changed to that of complete seriousness. “I propose you let all the other hostages go, because I’m Dick Grayson. I’m all the hostage you’re going to need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Dick's POV

 

_ Well _ , Dick thought as Slade pulled him through the museum, _ at least I’ll be back in the public eye _

On the bright side, the press had always loved a good kidnapping story. While he hadn’t planned on his return to be so dramatic, this would more than make up for his year off. His predicament also had the potential to be a valuable intel opportunity. His hands twitched at the thought of it. Despite all the work he and his teammates had put into discovering more about the villainous man, they always fell short. What little they did know was almost entirely provided by the man himself, and that got them nowhere. Dick had spent countless sleepless nights searching for something, anything, that would bring him closer to learning more about the man behind the mask. But perhaps the only way to uncover his enemy’s secrets was to ditch the mask himself.

Alternatively, the situation he was in was not ideal. To put it bluntly, this was bad. This was really bad. Dick wasn’t as prideful to act as if he had the situation under control, this had rapidly gotten out of hand. Slade was both formidable enemy and a dangerous man. His physical ability and mental prowess rivaled that of villains Bruce had struggled to apprehend. If Dick wanted to make it through this, identity and all, he was going to have to stay calm and alert. He could not let his temper get the best of him. There was too much that could go wrong, and only a level head would help him prevail. Besides, there was only so much he could do as Dick Grayson. But at the very least, he could always slow him down. 

He grimaced as Slade roughly pulled him out of his thoughts and into a stairwell.

“Hey, what gives.” He demanded.

Slade put his finger up to where his mouth would be under the mask, signaling for Dick to be quiet. When he made to open his mouth again, the grip on his arm tightened in warning. He put his free arm up to signal compliance.

Curious on what prompted his sudden need for silence, Dick focused in on his surroundings. The museum had been relatively quiet for some time now, the initial alarms turning off once authorities had been alerted. Listening closely, Dick could make out the sound of distant voices making their way down the museum's winding hallways. It was undoubtedly his team. It seemed Slade wanted a clean getaway, and as much as Dick was loathe to admit it, he couldn’t agree more. Despite the love and trust he held for his team, he knew they lacked the experience for dealing with hostage situations, especially armed ones. The probability of him getting injured during a confrontation was high, be it by  bullet or stray starbolt. Complying with his enemy, he remained silent.

A tense minute passed before Slade gestured for him to start the descent. Together they made their way down the stairwell, reaching levels of the museum that offered access to authorized personnel alone. Pocketing the gun, Slade began working to dismantle the system. Above them, a voice Dick could identify as Beast Boy’s, rang out from above them.

“Dudes, he's down here!”

At that Slade unsheathed his weapon, computerized system seemingly forgotten. He pressed the barrel of the gun into Dick’s temple. He could sense that they were moments away from everything rapidly spiraling out of control. Fuck, he was going to have to do something.

He looked at the system that prevented them from exiting, it was a simple program, nothing he hadn’t worked on a thousand times back in Gotham. 

“I can open the door.” He told Slade.

Slade hummed in disbelief, eye on the stairs that would lead the Titans to them. 

“I’m more than just another pretty face,” Dick said, he sighed, gesturing at the system, “I can hack into it faster than the Titans can get down here.”

“And what reason do you have for doing that?”

“As shocking as this may seem, I really don’t feel like dying today.”

Slade seemed to consider the offer as the resounding bang of a door flights above them was knocked off its hinges by a blast.

“Do it. Quickly.”

Dick rapidly began typing into the keypad of the machine, gun pressed against his skull the entire time. So much for slowing him down. The door granted them accesses with a confirmative  _ ping _ of the door just as the first foot falls from above began down the stairs. He stumbled as Slade shoved him into what laid on the other side the door.

Regaining his footing as he stumbled into the parking garage, he couldn’t bite back the barking laugh he let out at the sight of Slade’s getaway vehicle.

“Really, a van? Cliche much? Ok, ok geez!” 

Slade grasped his upper arm, dragging him towards the back of the vehicle. 

“Get in.” He commanded gruffly.

Dick rolled his eyes as he stepped up into the windowless back of the van, maybe he had been overestimating Slade’s capabilities as a villain if his escape strategy was this basic.

As the doors shut and locked behind him, and Slade slid into the driver's seat, Dick began to contemplate his situation. Despite all that had happened, this was still Dick’s only day off in what had been over a year. The one day he had planned on taking a break from leading the team and thwarting crimes. He really could’ve used a day to de-stress. There wasn’t any reason his current predicament had to keep him from doing that. If nothing else, he figured, he could multitask. 

Which is why as Slade turned the ignition, he couldn’t help himself, “No blindfold? Bold move. I like where this is going already.”    

This was going to fun.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 

Dick’s POV

Despite his lack of restraints, Dick struggled to have any semblance of control over the situation. It had been over an hour since they’d left the museum and he hadn’t a clue on where they were or where they were headed. And he knew it wasn’t worth to risk to make a grab for the gem he knew was in Slade’s belt, at least, not yet. He was jostled around as they hit yet another pothole, annoyed.

“Geez, where’d you learn to drive?”

No answer. Typical, Slade had remained silent for the hour they had been driving, leaving Dick to fill the silence alone. He tried again.

“You an athlete?” He ventured, “Before this whole “life of crime” thing I mean. I’m a gymnast myself, love to exchange pointers.”

He fiddled with a bit of rope that laid in the back with him, considering the usefulness of it in his plight. He would have to escape at some point, and he could use gear outside of his dead cell phone and wallet.

“I’ll go first, I guess. In gymnastics, the trick is allowing yourself to fall; you need to give into physics, you know what I’m saying?” He continued on, “You seem like a brute force kind of guy, I’ve never really trained in that, got any tips?”

He paused, no response. At this point he had coiled the rope and had begun to tie it around a notch in his pant belt loop. He supposed he was going for a bootleg Wonder Woman chic, he was sure Diana would get a kick out of that.    

“I’m from Gotham,” Dick explained. “This isn’t my first rodeo. However this is my first silent kidnapping, and I gotta say I’m already not a fan. Where’s your sense of theatrics? The drama, the monologuing, the tragic backstory!” Dick threw his hands up in exasperation.

Slade remained silent, eyes on the road.

“So…” Dick continued on, “Come on, make this interesting. Tell me your whole scheme before some hero comes along and saves the day. Alleviate my boredom.”

Still nothing. Well, being a nuisance to criminals was what he did best, whether it be in or out of the suit. Oh he would get Slade talking, he had no doubt in his annoyance. 

“Listen, Slade was it? You obviously missed the memo on kidnappings, you’ve got to keep it original if you want it to mean anything, and this? This is as average as it gets.”

Dick tapped his fingers against his leg. God, Slade was a stoic prick even when he wasn’t around the Titans.

Slade's POV

It had been over an hour now, and the kid had not shut up. No wonder Wayne had shipped him off to boarding school. Despite his initial interest in the teen’s uncanny boldness, learning his identity had quickly quelled it. His casual demeanor to the robbery was in character for a Gotham resident, where the crime rates towered over that of Jump’s. Of course, he had been struck with that moment of familiarity, one that he still couldn’t place. The teen didn’t do anything to help his concentration as he continued to blab on about everything from various villains to mathematical principles.

“Well,” Dick said pointedly, after wrapping up his one sided argument on the point system mathletes were subjected to, “I refuse to carry on a conversation for the both us.”

Slade let himself breath a sigh of relief, grateful for the silence that fell over them.

He could hear the boy walking around the behind him, most likely inspecting the vehicle for a means of escape he wouldn’t find. The arm that shot out in front of him was a surprise. 

He clamped his hand down on the boy’s wrist before he reached the dashboard. The boy’s head poked out in the space between the two headrests, looking down at his wrist and back up at Slade with an incredulous look.

“Oh, come on!” He laminated, throwing his uncaptured arm up in the air. “I’m back here trying to make the best of a bad situation, and you’re blocking me at every turn!”

Slade tightened his grip on the boys wrist, locking his eyes back on the road, “I ought to break your wrist.”

He had had enough of this. The sooner he passed the gem off to his associate at Star Labs the better, and if he’d dropped the boy off a little more worse for wear so be it. But they were nowhere near Central City at this point, and his hostage was already beginning to fray at his nerves. It was time he learned his place in this situation. But the boy merely shrugged off his threat, snorting a laugh in response.

“Oh wow a threat, real original. As if no one’s ever broken my bones before.” Dick let his left arm go limp in Slade’s grasp. “Been there, done that. Try another again.”

Slade let the boy’s arm go, and the boy sat down with an audible  _ thunk _ . The boy was baiting him into making conversation, that he knew, but it also provided him an opportunity to scare the boy into silence. Slade took up the challenge.

“You think you know pain,” Slade began menacingly, “But what you’ve experienced is child’s play compared to what-”

Dick let out a gleeful laugh from behind him. 

“You’re a real conversationalist.” He said sarcastically, “Sorry, sorry, don’t let my interruption stop you.”

Slade tightened his grip on the wheel. This was going to be a long trip.   
  


Dick’s POV

Dick lounged in the back of the van, a smudge of petty joy rising in his chest. He could tell he had begun to irritate Slade. This was as good a stress relief as any. 

“Don’t think your status will protect you if you pull another stunt like that again,” Slade began, threat evident in his voice. Dick rolled his eyes. “I will not tolerate escape attempts.”

Dick poked his head up to look at Slade in the rearview mirror, pulling a face that conveyed comical confusion. If Slade had thought that was his grand attempt at escape, he had been thoroughly underestimated. Even as a civilian, Dick had built a reputation as a slippery hostage, Gotham criminals knew better than to take him if they wanted to avoid a hostage whose bounds were perpetually untied.

“I wasn’t trying to escape,” Dick began. Slade humorlessly laughed in disbelief. Dick narrowed his eyes at him in the rearview mirror.

“As I was saying,” He continued. “I wasn’t trying to escape, I was going to turn on the radio.”

Slade didn’t respond, his masked face betrayed no emotion. Dick continued,

“To break the silence.”

Slade remained silent, Dick supposed they were back to playing the silent treatment again. Time to do something he was sure to regret.

“Ok, you know what?” 

Standing up, he deftly swung his right leg through the gap between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. Contorting his body so that his head and torso could follow in after it he maneuvered his body from the back of the van into the empty seat next to Slade.   

“There,” He said, dropping into the seat with flourish, “Isn’t that bett-”

He was cut off by the fist connecting with his nose. In hindsight, Dick considered, he should have seen it coming. He could only push his luck for so far.

“ _ Fuck _ .” He whispered as his hands went up to cover his nose. He could feel the blood rapidly gushing out and the crookedness of the bones beneath his skin. It was definitely broken. 

Slade’s POV

“You need to learn your place.” Slade grit out, not sparing a glance at Dick. “Do you think you’re some hero just for offering yourself up as a hostage? You’re just a rich brat who strayed too far from home.”

Slade’s patience had worn thin, if the kid knew what was good for him he’d stay silent after this. Most people lost their bravado once they had a taste of violence. He glanced over at the unusually quiet teen, surprised to find that look of utter hatred distorting his features once again. His eyes were narrowed, nostrils flared, bloodied mouth pulled into scowl. Slade felt another pang of recognition pulse through him, as if he knew the boy from more than the occasional press photo. Unlike back in the museum, Dick did nothing to school his features. Instead, he continued to glare daggers at Slade as he reached up and snapped his crooked nose back into place. 

Something had changed between them, though what it was Slade couldn’t place. It was as if the boy had suddenly remembered the severity of his situation and who he was in it with, though it seemed to have the opposite effect of what Slade intended. By the looks of it, the boy had certainly not learned his place. 

When Dick opened his mouth to speak again, his tone much like his demeanor had completely changed. His once nonchalant tone replaced with a barely contained anger, “Sooner or later you will let your guard down, and the instant I’m out of danger,  _ you will pay _ ”

Slade raised his eyebrows at the threat, it wasn’t half bad, though the boy was in no position to be making them. Once again he was struck with an odd sense sense of familiarity, as if he’d had some version of this conversation with the boy before, as if they hadn’t met for the first time today.

“ That sounds like a threat, young man. Quite a good threat, actually. But tell me, who exactly is going to see it through?”

The teen sneered at him, then looked down at his lap. Slade almost missed what the boy said next.

“I’ll do it myself.” Dick whispered, voice filled with promise. With that he turned to look out the window, wiping his bloodied nose on the back of his arm.

Maybe there was something more to the boy after all.


End file.
